Through The Years
by LozieDeanon
Summary: Kotetsu's loss of his Hundred Power marks an evolution, and he gains a longevity power. That means he's going to outlive everyone. He's going to outlive Barnaby. Post-series, late-blooming Barnaby/Kotetsu, De-anon from the Tiger & Bunny Anon Meme.
1. Chapter 1

A fill from the Tiger and Bunny Anon Meme. Prompt: _Barnaby always teased Kotetsu about being an old man, but ten years later, Barnaby realizes the tables have turned. He's getting older, but Kotetsu... is the same? Barnaby worries about Kotetsu's "surprise" ability (ie. He'll stay younger than/outlive Barnaby) and Kotetsu reassures him that he'll stay with Barnaby forever. Late-blooming relationship._

No warnings, but I know everyone has a different headcanon regarding the heroes' ages. Try your best to just roll with the numbers I picked.

* * *

Kotetsu catches Barnaby staring at his reflection in the mirror one day, tracing along fine, barely-visible wrinkles in his face—crow's feet, laugh lines, worry lines.

"Feeling old, Bunny?" Kotetsu teases, elbowing Barnaby's ribs.

"Not at all," Barnaby smirks. "How old were you when we met?"

"Thirty-five."

"I've got two years until I'm an old man."

"Who says thirty-five is old!?"

"Would you rather I call forty-five old? You can't avoid your age any longer, old man."

Kotetsu grumbles and leans in to the mirror, tracing around his eyes, and those pesky shadows he's had since he was thirty. "I'm not over the hill until I'm _fifty._ So there."

"Get over yourself, Kotetsu. You became an old man years ago." Barnaby leans in, too, sliding down his glasses and gently nudging the corner of his eyes.

"Hey, I'm a kid at heart!" Kotetsu smiles, and his face sparks with energy. If Barnaby lowers his glasses a little, Kotetsu looks exactly the same as he did ten years ago, back when he changed Barnaby's life forever. "That's what's really important, right?"

"You could look at it that way," Barnaby returns the smile—the smile Kotetsu gave him. "Come on, let's go."

* * *

"Happy birthday!" the heroes chorus, stepping back from around the table to show Barnaby his cake. He's grateful his friends decided to use two number-shaped candles rather than jabbing forty sticks of wax onto his frosting. Barnaby looks over the faces of his friends—aged, like his, but robust and healthy—as they sing. Karina's bright, soulful voice dominates the chorus, but Kotetsu rings loud and clear when, instead of 'Barnaby,' he sings 'lil' Bunny.'

Barnaby is appropriately and genuinely gracious, following Kotetsu's juvenile insistence that no one can eat until Barnaby's had the first bite, even though Pao Lin, the youngest, had turned thirty months ago. They swallow sugary cake and move on to alcohol, featuring a good vintage of Barnaby's favorite rosé, and all offer a quick toast.

Antonio toasts his strength, Ivan his skill, Pao Lin his rank. Nathan praises how his beauty has grown finer with age, touches of gray melting seamlessly into his highlights. Keith complements his dedication, repeating a cleverly calculated statistic a few times: Barnaby has spent nearly half his life working as a hero. Karina (a stunning beauty at thirty-three, and despite Titan dropping Blue Rose when she turned twenty-five, she spent eight years building a music career from the ground up under her real name) calls him a good man.

And as she sits down next to Kotetsu, Barnaby can barely see their age gap. Just two adults strolling toward middle age, enjoying each other's company on the way there.

Kotetsu stands and delivers a grandiose speech filled with words he looked up in the dictionary, but Barnaby barely hears a word of it, studying Kotetsu's face, hair, hands. There might be a single whisker in his beard a bit lighter than the others, and the creases in his knuckles are deep with use, and those shadows beneath his eyes endure, but Barnaby sees no other sign of age.

"…and I'll say again what I've been saying for over fifteen years," Kotetsu lifts his glass in Barnaby's direction. "I have the best partner in the whole world."

They drink to that, but the wine is bitter in Barnaby's mouth.

_Kotetsu, you're fifty-two. But you look like this could be_ your_fortieth birthday party, not mine. What is going on?_

What could possibly be going on?

* * *

Kotetsu loves keeping photographs, mementos of his favorite moments in life. He's got photos from forever framed along his dresser: his wedding to Tomoe and two baby pictures of Kaede in a trifold, him and Ben from just after Wild Tiger won King of Heroes with Kotetsu out of costume, a random photo of Kotetsu and Antonio at a baseball game and clad in everything orange, a photo of Barnaby and Kotetsu just after _Barnaby_ won King of Heroes, group photos of the second leaguers where Kotetsu took the picture, and hence is absent, Kaede's high school graduation, another trifold with pictures from _Kaede's_ wedding, with the happy couple in the center and the in-laws and child to either side. Kotetsu and Kaede stood together on the left side of that trifold, Kotetsu's arm wrapped proudly around Kaede's waist as she beamed at the camera, a beautiful woman on her perfect wedding day.

Barnaby grows obsessed with these photos, spending long stretches of time staring at them, begging them to solve his mystery. Particularly the difference—or lack thereof—between the photos of Kotetsu's wedding and Kaede's. If not for the strong familial resemblance, like the bright tawny eyes and the strong jaws, Barnaby has a shot at convincing himself it was a photo of Kotetsu and a second wife. Behind the gloss of glass, the signs of Kotetsu's age absolutely vanish. He and Kaede almost look the same age.

_This isn't the way it's supposed to be._ Barnaby flicks back and forth between the trifolds, trading the women at Kotetsu's side so rapidly they blur. He wishes he could perform an experiment, ask a stranger to identify the wife and the daughter, to try and prove Kotetsu's lack of change. Barnaby deftly thumbs the clasps on the back of the photographs aside. The older photo is dated with Tomoe's hand, and her loopy calligraphy spells: _Kotetsu + Tomoe: Our turn for bliss. 1966._ Not bothering to name that strange pain flaring in his heart, Barnaby sets the photo aside and opens the back of the second photo. This time, Kotetsu inscribed it: _Kotetsu with Kaede: Her turn for bliss. 1993._

In 1966, Kotetsu would have been twenty-five. In 1993, he should have been twice that. How could the two Kotetsus possibly look so much alike?

"Bunny, are you sure this looks okay?"

Kotetsu's voice shocks his partner, who sets the photos as they were, hiding the removed backs. Kotetsu appears at the top of the stairs, tugging on the cuffs of a black blazer.

"This feels like too much black. I hate wearing so much of the same color, I feel flat. I could get my brown sport coat—"

"The opera house won't let you in if you don't pass dress code."

Nothing is amiss from his partner's usual appearance. Black slacks, green dress shirt, cream vest, black buttoned tie, and at Barnaby's request, he added the suit jacket. Otherwise, he's maintained the same appearance for nearly twenty years.

_This isn't right._ Barnaby thinks again, but he doesn't know how to start solving that problem. Because the thought that keeps him up at night isn't the puzzle of a mysteriously un-aging old man, but the terror of turning tables, and Barnaby losing Kotetsu to anything other than death. Barnaby knows death well, and he at least knows that death is unbeatable. Leaving Kotetsu again, with _Barnaby_ giving into his age, would tear him apart.

"…You look fine, Kotetsu. Please, don't worry."

* * *

_Or perhaps, you_ should _worry, Kotetsu._

Barnaby sits stiffly on Kotetsu's couch and stares at the rows of photos across the room, and though they're too far away for Barnaby to identify individual faces, he knows their order, a chain of memories in perfect sequence. He feels battered, sore, aching, a sensation that culminates in a prickle behind his eyes, tears he refuses to shed. What kind of hero would he be if he cried over this sort of pain? This is nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Kotetsu returns with a glass of water and a pair of aspirin. Barnaby takes the pills and gulps them down as Kotetsu stands behind the couch and rubs Barnaby's shoulders.

"You'll get 'em next time," Kotetsu coaches confidently. "It was that statue they tipped, otherwise, you had a clear shot. But that's okay. Chalk it up to experience."

"Experience?" Barnaby repeats, staring at the 'experiences' on the far side of the room.

"I went through this, too. Stopped scoring well, lots of times other heroes had to help me. You had to help me, too. But Sternbild still needs you. It needs all of its heroes."

They sit in silence. Kotetsu's strong, skillful hands identify all the knots in Barnaby's shoulders no problem, but he can't reach the deeper pain.

"It hurts."

"Oops, is it me? Tell me where, I think I can—"

"I'm getting older. That's what hurts. In my bones."

"Sounds like a bone-bruise. I've had plenty of bone-bruises, they hurt like a son-of-a—"

"Kotetsu!" Barnaby snaps. He tosses off Kotetsu's hands and stands to face him. "I know it's not a bone-bruise. This is aging. I am getting _old_."

"Bunny, you're not old. _I'm_ old."

"You don't look old. And as far as I can tell, you don't feel old, either."

"I've always been healthy. Taking care of my body, you know?"

"So have I. And yet you are twelve years older than me, and you should be feeling at least a little bit of this."

"A little bit of what?" Kotetsu blinks. "Just sit back down, Bunny. If it's not your shoulders that hurt, I can rub your back, too!"

"_Kotetsu_," Barnaby repeated. "Those photos along the wall. The picture of you with Kaede at her wedding, and the one from your wedding with Tomoe—" Kotetsu flinches, but Barnaby presses on. "—You look barely a few years older. You're not doing anything to hide your age, no hair dye or creams. And you'd never pay attention to this sort of thing so long as you can stay a hero and save people."

"What?"

"It looks like you're frozen. And the rest of us are getting older."

"…What?"

Barnaby looks away. "It makes just as little sense to me as it does to you, but… this is what I've seen."

There's silence. He can't stand to look back at Kotetsu, just in case he doesn't like what he sees—disbelief, rage, or fear. He feels at fault for passing on bad news, and looking at Kotetsu's face would just compound this guilt. And he knows he should be happy for his partner. Why on earth would he want Kotetsu to suffer the pains and aches of aging with him? It's selfish.

_Is it so selfish to want to grow old_ with _Kotetsu... rather than growing old instead of him?_

Kotetsu attempts to start a few words, but nothing forms an intelligible sentence. Suddenly, he circles around the couch and picks up the phone.

"What are you doing?"

He shrugs. "Calling my doctor. Apparently I need a check-up."

Barnaby sits back down—he feels a creaking sensation in his hips—as Kotetsu jumps through automated hoops before finally contacting his doctor and setting up an appointment for two days later. Staring at his folded hands, Barnaby waits patiently until Kotetsu finally picks a time, "Two o'clock? All right, three," and hangs up the phone. He hates making Kotetsu worry as much as Kotetsu hates people worrying about him. But with nothing making sense, Barnaby just wants to know if Kotetsu sees what he sees—and what he plans to do about it.

"Hey," Kotetsu sits next to Barnaby, looping one arm around his partner's shoulders familiarly. "I'm… glad you told me."

"What?"

"If this was worrying you, I'm glad you told me about it. Because now we can start finding out, y'know, what's happening. I'll go to the doctor, see some NEXT specialists."

"NEXT research is still extremely speculative."

"This whole thing is speculative. But there's got to be ways to tell for sure if I'm aging or not. And I'm still glad you told me."

Barnaby lets himself slump into Kotetsu's side, full of the sweet warmth he feels so rarely, and treasures every time.

"I'll be there if you need anything, Kotetsu."

"You always are."


	2. Chapter 2

"Absolutely incredible," Lawrence Keene, doctorate candidate and researcher at Sternbild University, repeats as he flings holo-graphs and digital x-rays on the wall. "My thesis proposal barely had a leg to stand on, but I think this is extremely strong evidence of _latent_ NEXT abilities."

"But what does this mean?" Kotetsu really can't care less about the consequences in the scientific community. He just wants to stop feeling like a freak—he wants an excuse, an explanation, anything.

"I've run blood samples back and forth with other labs researching NEXT physiology. There's a lab in California that has found NEXTs tend to have irregularities in their DPD-3 strands—"

Kotetsu coughs loudly, and shoots Keene an apologetic look. _I don't speak science._

"Right. Well, they've been extremely successful at identifying subjects as NEXT, non-NEXT, or… well, ex-NEXT." Keene trails off a little. "You know, it's kind of like history come around again. With the first generation of heroes on Hero TV and their popularity, it became okay for people to be NEXTs. Then when you went public with your power loss, it became okay for people _not_ to be NEXTs. We got a surge of volunteers for studies about power declines, the condition is still rare, but it's been _grossly_ underreported, absolutely incredi—"

Kotetsu has to cough again to get him back on track.

"Right, sorry. Even though you don't have Hundred Power anymore, your blood samples matched those of people who have NEXT abilities, when you should have been a match for the ex-NEXTs. That was our first clue something was amiss. Then we sent some blind DNA samples and your x-rays to some forensic scientists, so we could get some unbiased dates on your physical age. Everyone who got the samples dated you at around forty years old, fifteen years younger than you actually are."

"That can't be right."

"We asked twelve different medical examiners. They all identified a healthy Asian male in his late thirties, early forties."

"So then… what does that mean for aging? Forty over fifty-five… Am I aging, like, eighty percent, or something?"

"Seventy-two, by that proportion… and I don't think that's the case." Keene flings a holographic line graph up onto the wall. "On the x-axis, the horizontal line, I've plotted your literal age. Then on the y-axis, I have your physical age. I'm making a few assumptions, time will tell if this is right or not, but you didn't report any developmental problems in your youth. You were walking and talking on schedule, adolescence wasn't delayed, you grew up normally." He highlights the first part of the graph with a wave of his hand: a nice, straight line, progressing directly through the corners of the graph boxes, a perfect one-to-one climb.

"Then, if we assume that this latent NEXT ability appeared when your Hundred Power began declining, your aging follows a new linear progression…"

With the wave of his hand, Keene highlights the next part of the graph. At thirty-six, Kotetsu's line changed drastically, shooting straight across the grid and barely climbing.

"You're fifty-five now. I subtracted the time during which you aged normally, thirty-six years, and divided by five, which says you've aged three-point-eight years, which would put your physical age _extremely_ close to forty."

"…Huh?"

"Ever since your powers began to decline, I suspect you've been aging five times slower than normal. At fifty-five, you're more like forty. At sixty-five, you'll be about forty-two. Seventy-five, you'll be forty-four, maybe forty-five, on and on."

Keene grows more and more excited as he talks. "I mean, we have no reason to assume this delayed aging is actually extending your lifespan, but if it did, by the time your body is eighty years old, you'll have lived for about two-hundred and twenty years. If your body lasts just twenty years more, you'll be _three hundred_ years old." The scientist beams at Kotetsu. "Isn't that absolutely incredible?"

Kotetsu stares at the line graph, and the slow slope reaching toward blank infinity. "I'd rather have my Hundred Power back."

* * *

They tell only a few people—friends, family. If Kotetsu had to rank, Muramasa took it best. Nothing phases his older brother anymore, so long as Kotetsu pays for his beer. But, he did praise his little brother for seeking help with this new NEXT power, and telling his family within a reasonable window. While taking it the best, Muramasa's reaction made his little brother feel five years old again: five, going on fifty-six, looking forty.

The heroes pass through approximations of the stages of grief, calling a latent NEXT power impossible, trying to insist Kotetsu is just a youthful-looking guy, there has to be some other explanation…

Nathan is the one who draws the parallel: "We've seen a NEXTs that could use powers without glowing before. Remember?"

"Who?"

"Jake's telepathy."

And though he didn't mean to kill the mood—because Nathan _creates_ mood, never kills it—suddenly no one wanted to discuss the matter anymore.

They leave the sponsors and corporate-types out of it—save Ben, who bridges the gap, and all he can do is pat Kotetsu's back supportively—because a media circus is the last thing they want when the explanation made everyone even more upset than the uncertainty.

Barnaby and Kotetsu subsist by spending as much time as they can together, doing activities that actively avoid the enormous elephant in the room. It starts out as a game of War: Kotetsu has a deck of cards, Barnaby can't remember playing it in his childhood, so Kotetsu set to teaching his partner. They spent hours flipping cards over one by one and pitting them against each other. Random chance dictates a fairly even win-loss ratio for the both of them.

This lasts a week, until Barnaby grows bored and brings a somewhat more sophisticated game.

"It's called Cribbage," Barnaby says, showing Kotetsu the compact board filled with little holes in a neat line, a bit like a running track. "We're dealt hands, count special pairs, and race each other around the track."

It takes a few days for Kotetsu to fully figure the game out, but before long, they're counting like experts, "fifteen-two, fifteen-four, pair for six, six more for runs, twelve," "Okay, fifteen-two, jack makes three, in the crib I've got two runs with a pair for eight." And they race each other around the little wooden plank, a pleasant time-filler that lets them chat.

From there, they branch out: gin rummy, canasta, and then into board games, Chinese checkers, backgammon, and occasionally, chess. Chess is not Kotetsu's forte—way too much waiting and planning ahead, playing three games at the same time—but Barnaby is a benevolent victor, and coaxes Kotetsu into playing again and again because Kotetsu never plays the same game twice, and such an unpredictable opponent amuses him.

Sometimes, they run out of games, so they sit together on Kotetsu's sofa, or if they're at Barnaby's place, his bed, usually reading. Barnaby chooses philosophical or technical texts, thick books with boring covers. Kotetsu's are much lighter, more colorful, which Barnaby jokingly refers to as his "picture books." Kotetsu laughs it off and kicks Barnaby, and doesn't quite move his leg away.

It's times like these—leaning into Barnaby, listening to him breathe, watching his eyes flick back and forth across the pages—that Kotetsu wouldn't mind living for three hundred years, if his life could be filled with these wonderful moments of peace, to just _be_ with Barnaby. But he stops thinking about it before he remembers that Barnaby doesn't have three hundred years, and he stares down at his book, and 'reads.'

* * *

"Hey, Bunny, have you seen these?"

Kotetsu flicks through something on his phone. Barnaby leans over and adjust his glasses. Not even Kotetsu knows these are bifocals now, with a seamless lens in the same shape as his usual frames.

He's on Pwitter, scanning through posts. There's a hashtag trending: #SeeYaBBJ, in honor of Barnaby's retirement. He's served Sternbild for twenty-five years, but now the doctors warn him about his weakening bones—apparently, his parents carried genes susceptible to osteoporosis, and all the milk in the world couldn't have staved off such a strong predisposition. And the exhaustion is getting worse, and he knows it's time to quit when he gets a call and the first thought through his mind is, _shut up and leave me alone._ That's not the attitude of a hero, at least, not one who must be ready at a moment's notice to fight the good fight.

Kotetsu has been his godsend, his foundation, as usual. Barnaby discussed his options with Kotetsu: he could stay in the industry as a consultant and analyst. He could find a charity to support and devote his time to everyday heroism. He could go back to college. Barnaby's considering a combination of the three: a Hero blog of 'post-game' commentary, working with foster care organizations, and enrolling at Sternbild University to hopefully turn his eclectic collection of college credits from Hero Academy and online courses into an official degree or two. Even over the hill, Barnaby has so much of his life ahead of him… He really does… Really… Retiring isn't the end of the world at all…

Taking Kotetsu's phone, Barnaby focuses a little more on the pweets, reading them.

_BBJ saved my wife and I from a collapsing building. He's the reason we met and have two wonderful sons. Best of luck. #SeeYaBBJ_

"These are…"

"It's a hashtag for your fans. They're telling you exactly how much you meant to them."

_I can't believe BBJ is retiring. He's so awesome, it felt like he'd always be there to protect us. Either way, #SeeYaBBJ_

_heart-heart-heart-heart-heart-heart-heart-heart-heart-heart-heart-heart-heart-heart-heart-heart-heart-heart-heart-heart-heart-heart-heart-heart-heart-heart-heart-heart-heart-heart-heart-heart-heart #SeeYaBBJ_

Barnaby scrolls down through more pweets, each one detailing the way his life and his career changed the posters' lives.

_Am I crazy that I liked BBJ better in league 2? Bcuz it proves true heroes can do good anywhere. No need to be on TV to help ppl #SeeYaBBJ_

_I used to hate heroes because they hid behind masks. BBJ was the first hero I believed in since he told us who he was IRL. #SeeYaBBJ_

"They love you so much, Barnaby. You're a great hero. People are going to be talking about you for decades. They'll remember everything you've done for them."

_BBJ spans 3 generations: my mom –heart-'s him, I grew up on him, and we watch HeroTV with my baby boy. You've touched so many lives #SeeYaBBJ_

_I'm named Brooke after BBrooksJr, so I'll feel strong and always try my best. Thx to Mom, Dad, and BBJ, I can. #SeeYaBBJ_

_#SeeYaBBJ. SB is so proud of you, and we'll miss you so much. You're a true hero forever, a life measured by the lives you saved._

The pweets go on and on, hundreds of little messages about how much Barnaby means to everyone, stories of hope and joy and praise boiled down to as few characters as possible, the condensed stories of real lives with real people, each one of them grateful, and sad to see him go.

He doesn't mean to cry. It just happens, and Kotetsu's hands are on his cheeks wiping away the tears before he even realizes they've started to fall.

"It's okay, Bunny," Kotetsu whispers tenderly. "It's okay."

And he wants to believe Kotetsu, the way he's believed Kotetsu for years, but Barnaby is a real person, too. This retirement means a new life, leaving behind hero work, leaving behind Kotetsu.

Barnaby is so grateful for Kotetsu, and even though he's the one leaving, he doesn't want to see him go.


	3. Chapter 3

Black is the color of the day in Oriental Town as all those who knew and loved Anju Kaburagi gather to pay their respects. Kotetsu shakes hands along with Muramasa and Kaede's family, realizing that he's going to have more—many, many more—black days ahead of him, and for the people he never wants to lose. The people he _shouldn't_ lose. The people meant to lose him. Because that's how time works. The old make way for the new.

Muramasa has silver hair and a limp. Kaede's eldest child is in double-digits. Kotetsu still looks like he's barely into his forties, and his vitality is holding, too. No signs of arthritis, heart troubles, muscle atrophy, anything that might slow him down or take him before his time. Those 'outs' denied to him sound way more appealing than Kotetsu wants to admit. Anything to keep him from seeing more black.

Kaede ditches her jacket and scarf when they're alone, quitting half the black, and pours two glasses of shochu, passing one to her father.

"I still can't get over you drinking," Kotetsu mumbles.

"Still just a little girl to you?" Kaede teases.

"You've always been five to me. When you were ten, you were five. When you were fifteen, you were five. Now you've got a glass of shochu in your hand and you're still five. It's my Daddy-Vision."

Kaede smiles ruefully and sips. The drink passes her lips like water. "I come from a family of alcohol sellers. I can't not drink."

"You can do whatever you want."

"Dad…" Kaede sits beside Kotetsu and takes his hand. She senses something dark in his tone, and it makes her suspicious "Is this about your power?"

Kotetsu shifts. "Just look at us. I'm your father and I look like your brother. In twenty years, I'll look like your son. That isn't right."

"Why not?"

"Because parents aren't supposed to outlive their children."

"Are people 'supposed' to be NEXTs?"

"…Not like this."

"You're not a freak, Dad. You're special even among NEXTs, but that doesn't make you any less than who you are."

He's heard this conversation a dozen times over. Not from Kaede specifically, but from Barnaby, right before they discovered the full implications of his shifting power, drunken versions from Antonio at various bars, from the other, younger heroes as they surpassed his age in appearance: This is fine. It's all okay. You're still who you are, and we still admire, respect, love you. You're not a freak.

"How'd you deal with retirement, Kaede?"

"I'm not retired. I'm in social work, remember?"

"I mean from being a hero."

From age sixteen to twenty-eight, Copy Cat defended the city of Sternbild with her amazing copy power, a noteworthy hero for her intelligence and strategy, using a plethora of NEXT powers to the best of her ability to save lives and apprehend criminals. Twice King of Heroes, she retired to have a baby, but then never returned to TV. It still haunted Kotetsu that Kaede had made the choice he should have made all those years ago, choosing family over career, no matter how much Kaede denied 'fixing' her father's mistake.

"It's about finding something else to do," Kaede said. "Just like Barnaby. But you'll drive yourself crazy if you try to retire again, I just know it. You'll get sad and lazy, like the last time you tried to quit."

"I'm almost sixty-five. It's time for me to retire. Find the everyday heroism."

"And weren't people saying you should retire when you were thirty-five? Why now?"

"Because… I should. I should be focusing more on my family again. Helping Muramasa."

"I can take care of Uncle."

"And raise your kids, and work?"

"Dad, you're still in really good shape. Great shape, even. Are you saying you're bored with protecting people?"

"No!"

"Is it too hard?"

"No…"

"So you're deciding to retire based on a margin of efficacy, arbitrarily placed by a government to try and weed less effective workers out of the labor pool and then culturally reinforced by the general public?"

"…Huh?"

Kaede slaps a hand to her forehead in exasperation. "Dad, you were the one who said you shouldn't put limits on yourself."

"This is diff—"

"This _isn't_ different. You have a special power. It's your responsibility to use it to protect those you care about, no matter what anyone else says."

After about three seconds of silence, Kotetsu feels antsy. He wants to say something, make Kaede understand that he's failing her yet again, how much it horrifies him that someday, it's going to be _her_ funeral and he's going to be standing there, watching them bury his ancient baby girl, how those he cares about are starting to slip through his fingers and there's nothing he can do about it.

"Would you listen if Barnaby told you this?"

"We… haven't seen each other in a while. He's really busy, with… stuff."

"Too busy to make time for his partner?" Kaede fixes Kotetsu with the look that she reserves for Kotetsu's dumbest moments, the one she uses to drag the truth out of him when he's being scared or indecisive: the look she perfected when she was ten years old, standing on the roof of Apollon Media, staring down the 'vintage-suited' Wild Tiger.

In no time at all, Kotetsu stands. "I'll call him," he says. "Thanks for the drink."

Kaede stays put, but eavesdrops until she hears a conversation beginning, and stares up at the sky. It's not like she doesn't fear dying, just for the uncertainty of it all, but she doesn't fear dying before her father.

She fears that someday, there's going to be no one around to whip Kotetsu back into shape when he starts thinking he's worthless, as he is prone to do, when nothing could be further from the truth.

* * *

The university science building is not a new building, but it's clean and in good repair. Kotetsu's not sure why he expected the science department to have swooshy automatic doors or eye scanner locks or other futuristic stuff like that. Maybe he's been spoiled by the privately funded Apollon lab. He passes a window and peeks inside at some sort of experiment occurring. That must be where they put their money—into teaching and learning. If Kotetsu was a bookish sort of person, he could see himself at a college, or maybe a graduate school, in a place of learning for the sake of learning. Maybe if he had a few experiences studying rather than being studied, he'd feel a bit less like a lab rat in a place like this.

They give him a visitors' pass and tell him that offices are on the second floor, and he wanders the narrow little hallways, reading the nameplates on the front doors and occasionally peeking inside. The offices are barely closet-sized, with room for a desk, another chair, and a bookcase. Some of the offices list multiple names of teachers sharing the same space.

_They're packed in like sardines._ Kotetsu notices. _Even the cubicles Bunny and I had in the office were bigger than this._

He makes three passes through the narrow hallways before finding the teensy little room with "B. Brooks" on the placard. He's about to knock when he hears a young man's voice ask something that is definitely a question, beginning with "Could you explain how…" and then completely losing Kotetsu for the rest of it. Barnaby responds with a similarly lofty vocabulary, answering the student's question confidently. Thinking it best to not interrupt the learning process, Kotetsu leans against the wall and waits.

The scientific exchange continues, a tangle of syllables that may as well be another language, but it's Barnaby's voice, his sweet, suave voice. Kotetsu's listened to that voice for years and years, but something about it, now in particular, sounds so relaxed and peaceful. Barnaby has always been the smart one, the one with the skills and interests and ability to be anything he wants. He makes a fantastic… person at a college. Kotetsu's not exactly sure what Barnaby's doing. It's teaching and research of some kind. Probably with robots.

_Well, good for you, Bunny. You really do sound happy._ Kotetsu kicked at the linoleum a bit. _So long as you're happy…_

The student thanks Barnaby for answering his questions, and then opens the door and nearly runs into Kotetsu as he turns out of the office. He glares at Kotetsu a little—Is he upset at the hero for eavesdropping? On a conversation he didn't understand?—but then continues on down the hall.

Kotetsu peeks inside. The shelves are packed with books, stuffed to bursting but obviously organized with some method. There's a filing cabinet shoved in a corner, too, and a few more crates also filled with books. All along the walls, Barnaby tacked blueprints of minute circuitry, some sort of device with a purpose that Kotetsu can't even begin to guess.

And he sees Barnaby, turned away from the door, typing. Under the florescent light, his hair looks like strands of silver and gold threaded together, tied back in a low ponytail. His shoulders are proud and square under a white lab coat, which trails down and reaches the floor. And on his desk is a framed photograph from his first season as a hero, when he won King of Heroes, with Kotetsu by his side, arms looped around each other.

Kotetsu's heart twists, and for some reason, he feels nervous. He knocks on the door extremely softly. Barnaby doesn't hear, so he knocks again, a little louder. Barnaby twitches, but apparently decides the sound is for someone else. Foregoing knocking, Kotetsu swallows and pries his lips apart, and calls, "Bunny."

Barnaby whips around in surprise, and Kotetsu catches a flash of a sour expression on his face, a _W__ho dares call me a bunny?_ sort of look, harshened by wrinkles. It vanishes the instant Barnaby sees Kotetsu, and is replaced with astonishment.

"Hi," Kotetsu waves, then remembers he should take off his hat.

"Kotetsu," Barnaby stares at him. "I wasn't expecting you."

"Are you busy? Should I leave?"

"No, I just wasn't expecting you." Barnaby adjusts his glasses. "I guess I should have been a little more specific when I said, 'stop by and see me any time.'"

Kotetsu laughed awkwardly and apologized, and Barnaby smirked in return. But his shoulders shook gently with repressed chuckles, until Kotetsu giggled again, broadening Barnaby's smile, encouraging Kotetsu's mirth, and before either of them really knows what happened, they're sitting and standing in a claustrophobic office, laughing so hard their stomachs hurt.

_What a pair we are!_ they think. _What a pair!_


	4. Chapter 4

"This time there are pictures," Barnaby passes Kotetsu the International Journal of Applied Robotics, with a little sticky-tab marking a page. Kotetsu sets aside his coffee and opens to the page. There's color in it all right, but it's all color-coded diagrams of computer systems and graphs of inputs and outputs that Kotetsu can't make heads or tails of.

"These aren't pictures," Kotetsu complains. He can't even interpret the title in any meaningful way, only that under it, the article credits a team of researchers including Dr. Barnaby Brooks Jr. "But you're published again! That's awesome!"

"True," Barnaby said. "Though I can't say I had much to do with this article, compared to the ones before. I'm a bit distracted with another project."

"What sort of project?"

"Private sector. Corporate secrecy. Sorry."

"Well, if you need a hero to advertise the company, may I suggest Wild Tiger?" Kotetsu shoots finger-guns at Barnaby, half-serious, half-joking.

Barnaby smiles and shrugs. "The Crusher for Justice selling delicate robotics? Something about that picture doesn't seem quite right." He sips his coffee, and then asks, "How is the hero business right now? The first league seems a bit weak at the moment. A wave of rookies preoccupied with posing."

"Weren't you a rookie like them once?"

"Weren't you? What I meant is, we _caught_ the criminals while posing, rather than just looking pretty for the camera."

"They're not that bad," Kotetsu defends them vaguely. "There aren't many serious crimes…"

Barnaby frowns. "That's not like you to permit sloppy heroism. What's wrong?"

"It's nothing, nothing. So what's in this article, anyway? What's 'pro-pree-o-cep-shun?'"

"_Kotetsu_," Barnaby cuts him off. "Tell me."

Kotetsu sighs and stares at the magazine on the table. "I had to tell the public about my power."

"Yes, I saw." It started with the fashion magazines, wanting to know Kotetsu's secret to a youthful face and body, what hair dye he uses to hide the gray, what cream he slathers on to smooth the wrinkles. Suspension of disbelief stretched, so Kotetsu explained his evolution: longevity replacing Hundred Power. Then Hero Monthly did an article on it, and the post-game shows talked about the meaning of this new power, and people generally came to accept the new Wild Tiger.

"Well… Apollon wants to bump me up."

"What?"

"They want to bring me back to the first league. I'm not a Hundred Power fighter anymore, but this power's so rare, they want to associate it with sponsors."

"That sounds wonderful! They're offering you a promotion!"

"It's not the same anymore. It won't be like it was before." Kotetsu said. "Everyone else has retired. Even Agnes left."

"Left?"

"Hero TV had an episode with a 100% rating. You can't make an episode any more exciting than that, so she went to find a new challenge. She's still working with reality TV, I hear, but she's not with Hero TV anymore. Saito's gone, too."

"I heard that one. He's tenured at a university in California, right?"

"Yeah. Ben's still at Apollon, but he's the CEO. He can't spend all his time hanging out with me. It's just not the same. And so long as I'm okay in the second league, I should just stay, right?"

They grow quiet. Suddenly, Barnaby reaches across the table and takes Kotetsu's hand. He feels age, wrinkles and knobs in his knuckles, but his hands feel so soft, and still strong. He almost cradles Kotetsu's fingers in his warm hands.

"Take it, Kotetsu," Barnaby says. "Take the promotion."

"What?"

"Trust me."

Kotetsu does, absolutely. And with Barnaby's hands around his and his eyes staring straight at him like he's the only person in the world, he can't refuse.

* * *

Apollon is absolutely different—a new soul in the old shell. The marble lobby, the gilded columns, the winged lion on the roof are all the same, but Kotetsu doesn't recognize a single face. He meets employees in the Hero Division, a collection of smart, appropriately respectful people under the direction of the young Evan Edelman, basically Lloyds' successor. He's altogether too bright and enthusiastic, more like a salesman than a publicity agent, and he makes Kotetsu miss Lloyds with all his pompous nagging more than anything.

Edelman takes Kotetsu through the grand tour of the new-old Apollon. The coffee pot in the break room is right where Kotetsu left it, but they threw out Barnaby's desk. The gym has all-new machines to match its all-new heroes, a slew of young hotshots with gorgeous bodies and dull eyes. Supermodels with superpowers, and for better or for worse, little else.

"You're Wild Tiger?" a ginger teen with a pixie cut asks. Kotetsu doesn't recognize her from TV; her makeup/costume team deserves a lot of credit.

"Yep, that's me."

"So your power is, like… being old?"

Kotetsu puts up with his insensitive new coworkers, but quickly convinces Edelman to move on. "How's my suit?"

"Fantastic! You've got a whole new look!" Edelman brightens. "Come with me!"

They continue walking through the halls, into an elevator, out of the elevator, back into halls. On the way, Edelman discusses their new campaign to rebrand Wild Tiger, again.

"Age, and the value it brings, has cycles," Edelman explains. "When something is really new, it's cool. Then it gets old, people don't care as much about it, but then when it starts getting _really_ old, it's impressive just that it's still around."

"So you're all impressed I haven't given up?"

"Not like that at all! We're marketing you as someone who _never_ gives up. You're almost as old as heroes themselves, and you debuted just as Sternbild's first Golden Age was taking off. We can bank on that… that, that what-do-you-call-it, that _association_. Wild Tiger is the soul of Sternbild, its guardian angel. You're here to stay. You're Wild Tiger: _Eternal._"

"Eternal? I remember when your department branded me One Minute."

"You were a second league hero then. Now we're selling the _first league you_." Edelman's voice glitters.

"So how am I going to compete for points when I don't have any combat powers?"

"Engineering said they'd take care of that."

Engineering. Kotetsu sighs. His third suit in almost forty years, but he can't imagine wearing a suit designed by anyone but Saito. He wonders if the new head engineer is going to put up with his nostalgia. Lloyds and Saito had no tolerance for it, and for the better.

Almost reading his mind, Edelman adds, "The base built on as Dr. Saito's designs, so it should operate like the suit you're used to. But there's a whole slew of new features, you're going to _love_ it."

The doors to the lab swoosh open, and a few technicians skitter aside to reveal the new Wild Tiger suit: similar shape to his old design, face plate and all, but slightly narrower shoulders, white and silver from head to foot, broken only by thin, black stripes on the arms and legs, with sparkling green eyes.

"Sleek, right?" Edelman says. "See, we never went with a literal tiger theme before, because orange can be an obnoxious color under the wrong light, and we can't control the light on live TV. But with your new NEXT power, we can play the white Bengal route. Makes you more mystical, spirit-like. Cool, right?"

Kotetsu approaches the shining armor. "I don't know. It's… a lot of white. I feel flat when I wear so much of the same color."

"I told them you wouldn't like the color."

Kotetsu whipped around, looking at the source of the familiar voice. Casually leaning against a wall, Barnaby smirks at his partner, and Kotetsu's heart skips in joy.

"Bunny!"

"Nice to see you, too, old man," Barnaby teases, and he crosses the room, each step clicking on the lab floor.

"But what are you doing here?"

"This is the corporate project I told you about. I'm the head engineer. I knew about your promotion before you did."

"Oh, that's no fair!" Kotetsu's mouth says, but his brain is doing happy cartwheels: _Bunny's here! Bunny's here! He's here with me! He's here to stay!_

Barnaby just smirks, the Wise Man smile that he's slowly perfecting. "With my retirement and your promotion, I thought it was time to put the best from both of our suits into one, and then throw in a healthy dose of the latest advances. Besides, I want to see you trounce those little posers."

"Is that so?" Kotetsu grins.

"Yes. And the only way to make sure something gets done is to do it yourself. Consider me your partner once more, Wild Tiger."

"So you think I can't handle the first league without your help?"

"That's exactly what I think." Before Kotetsu can protest that callous but good-natured insult, Barnaby goes on, "This _is_ an excellent suit, if I do say so myself." He gestures to the face. "I'll start with the eyes; green. They only come in one color, actually. It's just convenient it matches your second suit. You see, they're still experimental. My lab has been developing them for about three years, combining work from—"

"That's really interesting, Bunny. Like, so interesting. But, y'know…"

Barnaby smiles. "Omni-optics. They see _everything_. The feature I think you'll most enjoy is tracking and object recognition. Once you have a lock on a target, the system can trace up to thirteen visual, chemical, electrical, and radioactive cues. With those cues, you can not only see where someone or something is, even in heavy fog or smoke, but the system can identify where it's been by following its trail. The ultimate criminal-hunting tool."

"Ooh, I get it! No criminal will escape… the _eye of the Tiger_! That sounds cool, right?"

Barnaby rolls his eyes, but the lame pun makes him smile, and that's all Kotetsu wants to see.

"For the first time, you have claws," Barnaby taps a button on a console, and with a _shnk_, the suit's gauntlets sprout four silver talons, a little bit longer than his fingertips. "Fortified nanosteel, patent pending, laced with surgical diamond. Ordinarily indestructible, so you can use them as hooks for climbing and gripping, but then, if you activate microvibrations, they'll cut through anything, using the same principles as a chainsaw. We sliced through steel bars like butter in lab tests."

"Hey, I thought you weren't cleared to put those on!" Edelman protests. "The damages—"

"If you didn't want damages, you wouldn't have hired Wild Tiger as your hero," Barnaby cuts him off. "A hero's job is to save people, and it's my job to equip our hero to the best of my ability. Unless you want to wear this suit and keep the peace yourself, I suggest you step down and let the professionals work."

Cowed, Edelman whimpers and ducks back, letting Barnaby and Kotetsu continue.

Barnaby keeps explaining features of Kotetsu's suit—new wire gun with three types of cable (a standard but much improved wire, heavy-duty stop-an-oncoming-train wire, and ultralight, nigh-invisible tripwire), hyper-jump boosters adapted from Barnaby's old suit, oil slick, oil-slick resistant boots. Though Barnaby dumbs it down for Kotetsu's sake, the hero knows he'll need another explanation later, because he's too busy staring at Barnaby, drinking in his presence like never before. Barnaby is here. Here to stay, a permanent fixture of Kotetsu's life. Not a long-distance phone friend or a lunch buddy. Here, by his side.

And if he leans in a little closer than strictly necessary for conversation, Kotetsu can see Barnaby's long, gorgeous eyelashes are still luscious as ever. The details of Kotetsu's new anti-EMP systems goes in one ear and out the other as Kotetsu gazes at his partner, happier than he's felt in ages. Without a doubt, Barnaby rejoining Apollon is the best thing to happen to Kotetsu in the last ten years, since Keene told him about his evolving power. He tells Barnaby so when he drags his partner out for celebratory drinks…

…Then he doesn't remember much after that. But he wakes up bare-chested beside a similarly half-naked Barnaby, so Kotetsu assumes that he's happy, too.


	5. Chapter 5

Barnaby is a little surprised at how quickly he adjusted to that extra warmth in his bed.

He wakes up to an alarm, minutes later followed by a morning-breath kiss. _Disgusting,_ Barnaby thinks, but he always kisses Kotetsu back. It's a small, brief kiss, and Kotetsu gets out of bed a minute later for first shower, leaving Barnaby to wake up his bones by himself. He's much more motivated to leave the bed when it starts growing cold without Kotetsu's body heat, but it still takes Barnaby a few minutes to get up, filling his joints one by one with the will to move.

By the time he gets out of bed, Kotetsu has already vacated the bathroom, leaving it free for Barnaby's shower, the water pre-warmed and the air comfortably humid. He's especially grateful to follow Kotetsu's shower in the winter months, the steam easing the shock of morning wakefulness. By the time he's finished in the bathroom and dressed for work, he's ready to face the day with strength and a smile.

Kotetsu cooks breakfast, which for a long time, was a disaster. With time to kill while Barnaby got dressed, and a little idyllic dream of domestic harmony in his head, Kotetsu tried experimenting with hot breakfasts: bacon, eggs, ham, tater tots, pancakes, waffles, French toast, on and on. However the key word is _tried_. After a week of waking up to blackened lumps of burned food, Barnaby and Kotetsu negotiated a schedule: they would eat their own breakfasts, hot or otherwise, Monday through Thursday, and on Fridays, Kotetsu could practice cooking whatever he wanted for the two of them. And like many things, Kotetsu's cooking improved with time, until they lifted the ban and Barnaby began each morning with a lovingly home-cooked meal. He's unspeakably grateful Kotetsu decided to expand his culinary horizons now that they're living together; fried rice, no matter how delicious, gets old. Besides, having a wonderful breakfast helps his handful of bitter pills and vitamins go down easier.

They carpool to Apollon, usually in Barnaby's car. The old Chasers live in their garage, but they're a bit flashy for the morning commute. Barnaby drives, and Kotetsu chatters on about whatever matters to him that morning. Then, at the office, they part, Barnaby to his lab and Kotetsu to his cubicle.

They don't see each other for most of the day. At first, Kotetsu escaped to Barnaby's lab at every opportunity, almost as if to check that he was still there. But neither the engineer nor the hero got any work done with that setup, so Barnaby took a few drastic measures: he promised favors, he threatened punishments, and he secretly tutored Edelman in Lloyds-isms that had proven effective in controlling Wild Tiger in the past, until Kotetsu could survive the workday without visiting Barnaby. They still met for lunch when their schedules allowed, but for the sake of their job performance, they abided by 'corporate mutual exile.'

Barnaby makes it worth Kotetsu's while after, rewarding the both of them for their productivity and restraint. When the weather is nice, they go to a park and stroll arm-in-arm, or claim a hill or a bench and bask together in the sunshine. When it's colder or wet, they take the cuddling home, either on the couch Kotetsu brought with him when he moved in, or on the bed. Barnaby is usually responsible for dinner, since Kotetsu is much more scatterbrained after a day at work, and might forget to eat until atrociously late if left to his own devices. Barnaby's cooking also takes a turn for the better, though Kotetsu never quantifies improvement—if he likes the dish, he declares so very enthusiastically, and Barnaby glows with pride.

If there's a hero call, they respond: Kotetsu fighting in the field, Barnaby on headset guiding him through the potential applications of his suit's functions. Wild Tiger: Eternal is a great success, not quite a camera darling, but scoring very well. Kotetsu is the only one who recognizes Barnaby's influence, but Barnaby takes joy in Kotetsu's victories: stopping the bad guys, protecting the people, earning rescue points for saving the other heroes with nick-of-time catches reminiscent of the ones Barnaby himself was famous for in his prime.

If there's no call, they stay in, watch movies or talk, and often drink. Never too much, because a hangover the next morning is unacceptable, but they each enjoy a glass of something. Barnaby favors wine, and Kotetsu experiments, tracking the actual volume of alcohol, but switching up flavors, from shochu with ice to whiskey to beer to scotch to mixed drinks of his own invention.

He's more honest when tipsy.

"No one believes in it," Kotetsu says. "No one believes it's a hero's job to save people, not anymore. When we had everyone… your first year, the eight of us, even if no one acted like it, we _knew_ that was why we were doin' what we did. For the _people_."

Barnaby is inclined to think that Kotetsu is exaggerating, because Hero TV would not survive without some noble do-good spirit buried in it somewhere, but he doesn't interrupt.

"A hero's job is to protect people. You said that, remember? On TV years and years ago, when I was losin' my… well, I thought it was power loss back then…" He's almost talking without thinking, so Barnaby gently takes the glass from Kotetsu, eases him down to lie with his head in Barnaby's lap, and strokes his hair. Kotetsu settles happily, and continues his train of thought.

"Tomoe said that, too, almost word for word. It freaked me out back then… well, lots of stuff had me freaked out, but it was crazy. Like an echo straight out of the past. And even when other people have talked about a hero's job, savin' people, only you and Tomoe used those _exact_ words." Kotetsu smiles up at Barnaby. "I guess that's when I should've realized I love you, huh?"

"Better late than never," Barnaby reassures him, kissing his forehead.

The mood lightens—Kotetsu's attention drifts and he talks about news he heard on the radio, products he saw on TV, places he swears he's going to go with Barnaby. Soon, he falls asleep, head still resting in Barnaby's lap. Barnaby sits with him for a while longer, absently running his fingers through Kotetsu's hair, but he yawns. Bedtime already? What happened to the days when he and Kotetsu could stay up all hours of the night? He slides out, replaces his legs under Kotetsu's head with a throw pillow, spreads a blanket over the sleeping hero, and then prepares for bed, changing into pajamas and sliding under the covers.

The bed is cold; Barnaby can't get comfortable, so he lies awake. But no more than a half hour after he left Kotetsu asleep on the couch, he hears the door click open, the drawers slide, cloth rustle, and suddenly Kotetsu climbs in beside him, wrapping an arm around Barnaby's waist and snuggling in close. He probably thinks Barnaby is already sleeping, so he says nothing, but Barnaby smiles in the darkness. With the bed finally warm, he falls asleep.

* * *

And though the years go by—he shouldn't complain, he's in love with Kotetsu who loves him in return, who could ask for more?—Barnaby can't help but feel everything he feared he would feel.

Hero-related events happen with surprising frequency: closing ceremonies, induction celebrations, retirement parties, charity balls, investor receptions. Each time, Barnaby and Kotetsu are each other's date. The media turned their relationship into some sort of epic. Two heroes with tragic histories and uncertain futures, staying together and demonstrating nearly fifty years of devoted partnership and going on ten years of love… It's sensationalized, but accurate.

Their arrival is always magnificent: the red-carpet entrance where he and Kotetsu keep their arms around each other's waists as cameras flash lights at them, like a thousand starbursts right before their eyes, a glittering world just for them. Kotetsu tends to duck his head often, still camera-shy, even after decades of celebrity. Barnaby whispers encouragement in his ear, and in a few minutes he's back and beaming.

Barnaby loves parties. He loves cameras. He loves people. He loves Kotetsu.

Within the party, they acknowledge its purpose, greet any guests of honor, thank the speakers, approach old acquaintances and say hello, but within thirty minutes, people are approaching _them_ to ask questions and tell stories. The education gap usually splits Barnaby and Kotetsu: a scientific peer will introduce himself or herself to Dr. Brooks, comment on recent developments in some field or another, add their own observations and findings, on and on.

Kotetsu gives Barnaby's hand a squeeze. "I'm going to get some food, okay?"

"All right. See you later."

The night progresses, and when the conversation runs out, Barnaby searches for Kotetsu again. And that's when things take a turn for the worse, because Kotetsu is _always_ talking with someone—from the press, from Apollon, from Mars, for all Barnaby cares. Barnaby stands to the side, out of Kotetsu's sight, and observes the person he's speaking with: the way her hair curls, his eyes sparkle, her dress clings, his hand lingers.

Kotetsu is over eighty years old: the public can guess that through some simple mathematics, but Kotetsu looks half of that, his spine is still straight and tall, his physique excellent, and his traditional domino mask subtracts a few more years, hiding his crow's feet. There's almost no difference between this Wild Tiger and the one Barnaby rescued with a princess carry when they first met, decades ago.

_He's handsome._ Barnaby looks over his partner, a fine suit on a finer body with a great wide-open heart, and then someone says something to make Kotetsu laugh, that hearty laugh of honest joy.

He can't watch for very long before he retreats to a bathroom and leans over the sinks, staring at his own face in the mirror. His hair is completely silver and thinned, and with his wrinkled face and cracked lips and glasses thick as window panes and age spots all across his skin, Barnaby almost can't take it. His bones are weak and his muscles atrophied and his joints ache and he has to swallow handfuls of pellets throughout the day just to feel like a normal human being, but the pills can't stop him from feeling hideous, and he only feels uglier when he thinks of the young party-goers outside that are so good at making Kotetsu laugh. He wants to hide in a corner and crumble to ash and never be seen again, and for everyone—especially Kotetsu—to forget how pathetic he's become, and just live happily without him.

Barnaby hates parties. He hates cameras. He hates people. He loves Kotetsu.

He loves Kotetsu so much it hurts.

He eventually finds the will to leave the bathroom, return to the party, and mingle politely. When the evening begins to quiet down, Kotetsu finds him with ease and asks, "Having fun, Bunny?"

Barnaby smiles. He says, "Yes, but I think I've had enough fun for one evening."

"Ready to head home?"

"Just about."

So Kotetsu loops his arm around Barnaby's waist one more time, a gesture Barnaby enjoys much less than he did a few hours earlier, and they leave the party. For nights like this, Apollon provides a driver, so neither man has to worry about driving while intoxicated. Kotetsu sits close to Barnaby in the back seat, frequently with an arm around his shoulders, recounting his evening and telling Barnaby about the fascinating people he talked to that night. When Barnaby can't take it anymore, he closes his eyes and leans against Kotetsu's shoulder, enduring Kotetsu's coos of "Aw, sleepy Bunny" just to make Kotetsu shut up about all those other people that aren't him.

Kotetsu is oblivious to this routine, and Barnaby wants to keep it that way. Just let the cycle continue: happiness, envy, hate, happiness, envy, hate. He knows there's going to come a day when he won't even be allowed to have the intermittent happiness, and he'll have nothing but envy and hate. So he'll continue in this circle, clinging to his lover for as long as his ancient hands can hold on… before Kotetsu finally slips away.


	6. Chapter 6

Kotetsu tries. Bless his heart, he tries.

Barnaby agreed to every invitation out, for a while. In a group or just the two of them, to a public event or a quiet, private date, no matter how foul Barnaby found his mood after, looking at all those _people_, those other people who are going to be here when Barnaby isn't, he agrees to go out because Kotetsu smiles.

But then there's one evening where Barnaby just can't take it, and he asks that he and Kotetsu stay in for the evening, have a nice home-cooked dinner, watch a movie, and just spend some time together, alone. Kotetsu kisses Barnaby's cheek and says, "Sure thing." No complaining, no fuss.

After that, it's easier and easier to claim exhaustion and ask for Kotetsu to stay in, by his side, until it reaches the point where Barnaby only leaves the house for work. He'll never deny Kotetsu the chance to leave by himself and spend time with his family, especially since his great-grand babies are so adorable and their friends visit town periodically; just, Barnaby doesn't join him. He asks Kotetsu to go and enjoy himself, and it's somehow easier to spend the night alone at home rather than out with Kotetsu, able to observe and scrutinize every word and action. Kotetsu keeps inviting him nevertheless, almost constantly asking if he wants to go somewhere, even suggesting places Barnaby knows Kotetsu himself has no interest in going: operas and academic lectures and the like. Barnaby persistently refuses.

Kotetsu starts to catch on. "Bunny, are you feeling all right?"

"Hm?"

"You're getting pale. You're not eating much, and you don't leave the house," Kotetsu lists his symptoms. "Should I call a doctor?"

_Which one?_ Barnaby thinks ruefully. For most of his adult life, he needed one doctor, with occasional visits to specialists when the need arose. Now, there's a pantheon of medical professionals responsible for Barnaby's health and well-being: his heart, his bones, his lungs, his stomach, his eyes, his ears.

"No, it's nothing. Nothing more than the usual, at least."

"You sure?" Kotetsu makes a face, concerned and skeptical, but oblivious to the truth.

"Yes."

He scratches at one of the little kitties in his beard, a style he's maintained for decades. He brightens suddenly. "Ah, I know! Our anniversary is next week!"

"Anniversary of what? We're not married."

"Of when we started dating. Same thing," Kotetsu beams. "Let's see, it's a Thursday, so that's not that great, but we've got sick days piled up, so taking Friday off would be easy. We're free to just do whatever! Paint the town. Eat great food at the best restaurant, go up to the tallest building and see the sta—"

"Enough already."

Kotetsu stops short, his lips still twisted mid-word. "Eh?" Barnaby clenches his teeth as he realizes what he just said. "Enough of what, Bunny?"

"Kotetsu… don't you feel like this has gone on long enough?"

"What has?"

_You're going to make this even harder, aren't you?_ "I don't want to hold you back anymore. It would be for the best… if…"

"If what?" Kotetsu sits beside Barnaby, sensing this is the 'illness' that has been bothering him. "What's wrong, Bunny?"

"It has occurred to me that you have many more opportunities left in your life," Barnaby splits his speech from his feelings—in his mouth, he speaks eloquently, but the rest of him wants to just crumble and cry. "Unlike me. I am a hindrance to you."

"Oh no you don't, Bunny, those are _my_ lines!" For such a petty complaint, Kotetsu doesn't even crack a smile. "If you want me to list all the things you've done to help me, we'd be here all week!"

"And the same goes for you. But you don't need to stay with me until the end. I'll just be grateful for the time we had, and—"

"_Bunny!_" Kotetsu grabs one of Barnaby's hands. "Don't say stuff like that. I'm not going to leave you."

"It's unfair," Barnaby won't look at Kotetsu. If he did, he'd probably lose all chance of saying what needed to be said. "There's so much for you out there."

"And for you, too."

"Look at me, Kotetsu."

"I'm looking."

"…If you're really looking, then you should understand."

"What is there to understand?" Kotetsu wrapped one arm around Barnaby and pulled him close for a hug. Kotetsu's strong arms and broad shoulders, comforting like only an embrace can be, envelop Barnaby completely. "I love you. I'm going to stay until the very end."

"But that's not fair to—"

"Bunny, I know how it looks to you, but that's not how I see it at all," Kotetsu reaches up with one hand and begins idly stroking Barnaby's wilting curls. "I see someone that I'm absolutely in love with, and he's going to be taken from me eventually. And I just want every minute I can get with you before that happens. Death is the _only_ thing that can take you from me. I won't let anything else do it." His arms tighten. "I won't."

It's what Barnaby knew Kotetsu would say. It's what Barnaby wants to hear him say, that he'll stay forever and never leave. But it still feels too good to be true, far too good to be true, that he can look and feel so miserable while Kotetsu continues to love him and simply refuses to see how Barnaby is going to hurt him.

"Don't leave me, Bunny," Kotetsu asks quietly.

Call it weakness. Call it selfishness. But in spite of knowing better, Barnaby answers: "I won't."

* * *

Barnaby's second retirement from Hero TV is a lot quieter with much less fanfare. Kotetsu supposes it's easier to leave a show when you're backstage rather than standing in the spotlight. Some students and peers from his days at university, as well as friends and proteges they keep in touch, but Barnaby's getting weaker. So much sitting, so many doctors, each reminding him—and Kotetsu as well, his live-in family and primary caregiver—to take care of the different elements of his body falling apart. Careful about eye strain, blindness is a possibility. In his ears, hair cell destruction should be accumulating by now. His teeth, be very cautious about what you eat. His bones, never miss a calcium supplement. His skin, you bruise much more easily now. On and on and on and on and on.

Kotetsu takes notes, and he forces himself to study them until he is an expert in the care and keeping of Barnaby Brooks Jr. Barnaby's well-being is enough of a motivator to make him learn it all. He doesn't have much time left, and he wants it to be as pain-free as possible.

That's not to say Barnaby entirely agrees with that point of view. The orthopedist recommends that Barnaby start walking with a cane to take some strain off his deteriorating skeleton, and in response, Barnaby powers up, and surrounded by a blue aura, strides right out of the office, through the hallway, to the parking lot, to the sidewalk, and as far down the street as Hundred Power can take him. Kotetsu follows, protesting for a bit that he can't walk out on Dr. Knochen, but he quickly falls silent.

Barnaby doesn't use the full hundredfold power of his Hundred Power. He walks briskly and nothing more, but for the first time in years, his spine is perfectly straight from the base of his skull to the end of his tailbone. His bowed legs take strong, tall strides, his arms swing without a hint of pain, and his crinkled fingers straighten, though he is still in every other way a septuagenarian.

He looks like a god to Kotetsu.

Kotetsu catches him when the power runs out five minutes later, and Barnaby crumples, no longer strong enough to fight through his decrepitation. He cries a little, too, but Kotetsu pretends he doesn't see that and just holds Barnaby. Unlike Kotetsu, who still has a fair shot at convincing others that his pain doesn't exist, with Barnaby, it's a matter of recognizing his pain, but maintaining his pride.

"I love you, Bunny," Kotetsu reminds him. "More and more each day."

"Kotetsu…" He rarely finishes it out with the customary 'I love you, too' anymore, but everything about Barnaby says it for him, from his hands to his eyes to the small, warm, wet spots on Kotetsu's shoulder.

Two weeks later, Barnaby gets a cane. It's a work of art in itself, with dark solid wood and an elegant handle, and the black stopper at the end is practically invisible. It reminds Kotetsu of all those old-timey opera guys, so he supposes it's appropriate for Barnaby now that he's an old-timey opera guy himself. But having a cane and using it are two different matters. Barnaby still hates the thing and refuses to touch it unless he absolutely has to walk a long distance, and even then Kotetsu sees how much Barnaby exerts himself with the small stuff.

He doesn't want to force Barnaby to do anything, but he needs to start using the cane more regularly. It's a strange way of being selfish—there's definitely Barnaby's health to think about, but the healthier Barnaby is, the longer he can be with Kotetsu, and Kotetsu wants every minute he can get. So, how to convince Barnaby to use the cane?

Well… give him a reason to.

On the most beautiful day Kotetsu has seen in years, he makes a big show of standing by the window, staring out at the sunshine and the puffy clouds, opening the window and letting the warm breeze roll by. He comments on the weather at least three times, sighing wistfully and all but singing the praises of spring just turning to summer.

Barnaby doesn't get it at first. "If you love today so much, go outside."

"But Bunny," Kotetsu shoots his best wibbly puppy-dog face Barnaby's way. "I want you to come with me."

He sighs. "That damn cane…"

"Please, Bunny? For _me_?" Kotetsu redoubles his efforts to be cute. Barnaby adjusts his glasses and runs a hand through his hair.

"If you stop making that ridiculous face, fine," he concedes, and Kotetsu is more than happy to comply, easing Barnaby out into the light, where he glows, even if just a little bit.

* * *

Kotetsu and Barnaby quickly find a favorite park, and a favorite walking route with it. Kotetsu has to learn to let Barnaby lead, rein in his steps so the elderly man doesn't feel pressured to go faster, suggesting breaks when they pass benches so that Barnaby never has to ask for rest. It takes Kotetsu a while to find the right walking technique, something that doesn't have him twitching stray digits and just generally looking like he had itches under his skin, and he realizes it's all about the right focus. If he's not focusing on walking at all, and instead thinks of Barnaby, thinks of their memories, their ups, their downs, their ups that make up for the downs, then it's much easier to walk, reminisce, and match the pace that Barnaby sets.

On the benches, Kotetsu holds Barnaby's hand, but if they're adventurous, Kotetsu can drape an arm across Barnaby's shoulders and let the aged man's head lean against him. He has to keep track of time and move Barnaby before his neck seizes up, though. Sometimes, Barnaby gives Kotetsu instructions on where and how to sit, so that Barnaby can embrace him in return. Kotetsu frequently finds himself pinched or prodded in an odd direction for a bit longer than strictly comfortable, but with Barnaby, Kotetsu can endure anything. He _will_ endure anything, if he can have just a little more time, not for himself, but for Barnaby.

If they time it right, their route puts them at the top of a hill during the sunset, and every time it's a stunning sight. _A lovely sunset._ Kotetsu thinks, and he looks to his partner at his side. _Barnaby, you lovely sunset._


	7. Chapter 7

The day is a little warm for autumn. Kotetsu and Barnaby are both a teensy bit overdressed and overheating as they walk their favorite route through the park, but there's nothing they can easily shed, so they endure the slight stickiness and just continue as per tradition.

"Evan turned in his two weeks' notice yesterday," Kotetsu mentions. Small talk.

"Evan…"

"Edelman. My publicity agent," Kotetsu explains. Barnaby nods. Somewhere along the line, Kotetsu ended up on a first-name basis with his supervisor, but Barnaby had always called him Edelman, even after retiring.

"Did he give a reason for quitting?"

"He's moving on. Found a new project."

"What, better than heroes?"

"Corporate turn-arounds. Rebranding entire companies rather than just a hero. He's very excited about it, and it's not like Wild Tiger is particularly interesting at the moment."

"But just last week, making a slingshot with the momentum of that car—"

Kotetsu laughs. "Well, Hero TV likes me. The sponsors, not so much. It's still no big deal. Evan's come a long way, and I'll survive just fine."

Finally detached from that struggle of what's-hot-what's-not, and without a generation to date him, Kotetsu is like a classical myth: ungrounded in time, known and enjoyed by all. It took him a few decades, but he finally learned all the functions of his hero suit and gadgets, as well as what tool to use when without an engineer—Saito or Barnaby—giving him the answers in his ear. He's put that experience to good use. Wild Tiger: Eternal is the finishing blow. As other heroes pursue the criminals around town, by the time Wild Tiger shows up, it's all over. The day is about to be saved, and every time, he saves it. Unfortunately, while the how the day gets saved each episode interests the viewer audience, the sponsors are complaining of a static hero, someone inflexible and unmarketable. The most he can sell now is himself, and little else. Kotetsu hopes that popular opinion of Wild Tiger can protect his job even as the sponsors moan and groan. He's kept his promise this long, he doesn't want something stupid like other people's money to end him.

They reach one of their usual stops, and without a word, simultaneously gravitate to the bench and sit. After a quick check for Barnaby's comfort, they sit side-by-side, fingers threaded together. Kotetsu closes his eyes. A nice, strong breeze picks up, blowing away the sticky-warm weather. In the sweet coolness left behind, Kotetsu sighs, happy.

And then he looks to Barnaby. His partner's forehead still shines with sweat, even though the temperature has dropped. His chest trembles with short, shallow breaths, and his eyes, Kotetsu will never forget the look in his eyes, a horror that Kotetsu can't name—

"Bunny?" Kotetsu asks, fully turning to his partner, mentally running through his list of diseases and their symptoms, but before he can make a decision, Barnaby powers up and glows blue, shoving Kotetsu down the bench, away from him. "Bunny, what—"

Barnaby takes his other hand and strikes himself in the center of his chest, hard enough for Kotetsu to hear a sickening crack. But he can't do anything, because Barnaby hits a second time, and a third, a fourth. But after that fourth hit, Barnaby stops, and sits, breathing heavily, as his powers continue to run.

"Bunny! What's going on?" Kotetsu eyes are burning. "What did you just do?"

Barnaby closes his blue eyes. "My heart stopped," he says. "I restarted it. But we should go to the hospital either way."

"Wh… What?" Kotetsu stares. "Your heart—just—"

"Yes. I'm fairly certain I just had a heart attack. But I can feel it beating again. Everything is fine, Kotetsu."

_Everything is fine?_ Kotetsu can't hold back the tears as they begin to spill. _Nothing is fine, Bunny, you're falling apart at the seams and there's nothing I can do. How can you try and tell me that everything is fine?_

"Kotetsu, call an ambulance," Barnaby reminds his partner calmly. The blue glow fades, and with a groan of pain, Barnaby adds, "_Now._"

He doesn't need to be told twice. Kotetsu does better than an ambulance, too: his hero transport is a tap away, and it's waiting for them at the edge of the park by the time Kotetsu gets there, having carried Barnaby in his arms away from the scene. By now, Kotetsu has a guess at what's still wrong. Barnaby successfully restarted his own heart, but the use of Hundred Power and the awkward angle probably means he broke some of his own ribs, and it's not like his bones are as strong as they used to be...

_It's over._ Some part of Kotetsu knows. It's a part that feels like everything wrong in his life. It's the part that feels like the schoolyard bullies eighty years ago. It's the part that feels like the judgmental teachers, the part that feels like the companies who turned him down, the part that feels like Jake Martinez or Maverick or everyone who ever told him that he couldn't be everything he wanted to be. That's the part telling him that it's all over. Barnaby is no longer aging. Barnaby is _dying._

Kotetsu grits his teeth. _It's not over. I won't let it be over. Not here. Not now._

_But someday, it will be over._

_That's someday._ Kotetsu keeps Barnaby upright, tests for blood in the lungs, strings air nubs under his nose, and fastens a seatbelt across his lap, but not his chest. Barnaby looks at him, his eyes mostly clear but still tinged with that fear from before. Kotetsu takes his hand and squeezes it. _This is today_.

* * *

The hospital staff struggles to understand their family situation at first—Kaede looks like the matriarch, with her children and grandchildren beneath her, and Kotetsu is initially mistaken as one of her sons, just as he feared he would be. The nurses also aren't quite sure why all of these people who do not have the surname "Brooks" want to spend so much time with Brooks, Barnaby, but once Kotetsu can sufficiently prove that he is Wild Tiger: Eternal, Barnaby's common-law husband, they're all allowed to visit with only a few funny glances and whispers: _Look, Wild Tiger is here. He's almost a hundred years old. Isn't it strange how young he looks?_

The babies think the hospital is so cool. They play doctor and press toy instruments against Barnaby's forehead and arms (they are forbidden to touch his delicate torso) and declare that he is afflicted with the most dreadful illnesses they can imagine—chicken pox, or the flu—and they're going to make him all better… All better! Hooray! Oh wait, Grampa Barn-bee is still sick, better give him another check-up… The grandchildren's parents play middle-man, good-naturedly distracting the children when they accidentally become too morbid, and smiling positively the whole time, thinking that it's more respectful to Barnaby's dignity if they pretend that nothing is wrong. Kaede is wiser, and sees the true issue at hand: making sure Barnaby gets every last minute with Kotetsu that he can. To these ends, she bosses her unruly descendants around, from sending them on errands to orchestrating separate visiting appointments for her father and her children, and sometimes, just plain telling them to leave.

Kaede is a godsend to the both of them, Kotetsu in particular, as she keeps him from going home to an empty house. But it doesn't help that her own age reminds Kotetsu that it's not going to be this one death, and then no more pain. Death is going to keep coming for Kotetsu's loved ones for the rest of his unnaturally long life. Barnaby is the first in an onslaught of death.

But for now, Barnaby is in a hospice, a little offshoot of the hospital for the people who are never going to get better, but don't yet need intensive care. Slightly over half the people there are like Barnaby, aged and waiting to die, while the rest represent a wide variety of terminal illnesses, stretching all the way from childhood to late middle age. Kotetsu recalls, _Tomoe never stayed in a hospice._ They had known her illness threatened her life, but she had a chance of pulling through with treatment, with time, if not for Fate's other plans.

Barnaby doesn't have that chance. He's just trying to muster up as many good days as possible to smile at his family, at Kotetsu, before they send him to the special IC unit.

Then they send him to the special IC unit.

It's the special IC unit that Kotetsu has only visited one other time.

The nurses string Barnaby up with a spider web of tubes, with an IV to his arm and a cup over his mouth puffing oxygen for him to breathe. The room has a few splashes of color meant to brighten everything up—Barnaby's blanket is pastel green, the ceiling is baby yellow—but for all the good those colors do to stop Barnaby from dying, everything might as well be blank white. Kotetsu sits beside him and holds his hand, with a heart monitor chanting to the tempo of Barnaby's pulse, "_still-here… still-here… still-here… still-here…_"

Barnaby never asked for it to be like this. Kotetsu knows he certainly never asked for it to be like this. It's not fair.

"Hey… Bunny," He stares at Barnaby's pale hand, cradled in his tanned one, the hand he still loves, liver spots and bulging veins and all. Barnaby stirs the slightest bit, and Kotetsu takes that as a sign his partner heard him. "Guess what, Bunny? You get to ask me for a promise."

Now he has Barnaby's attention. His head rolls half an inch toward Kotetsu, and his eyebrows lower. He's confused.

"When my lover dies, they get to ask me for a promise. And I'll keep it forever, no matter what. Something you want me to do to honor you. It's a tradition. At least… it will be a tradition."

Barnaby's lips part, and his creaking voice asks, "What…?"

Kotetsu just holds his hand a little firmer. "Tomoe's last words to me were a promise. She asked me to always be a hero. It's been hard, but I think I'm doing a pretty good job, considering everything. And so long as I did that for her, it was okay that I moved on and… fell in love with you." His eyes start stinging. It's an all too familiar sensation. "God, I fell in love with you…"

Barnaby says nothing. He just stares at Kotetsu, wrinkled visage absolutely unreadable.

Clearing his throat and fighting not to cry, Kotetsu continues. "So! I'll make a promise to you, too, Bunny. The only thing I can't do is undo Tomoe's promise, but everything else is fair game. I'll do anything you want. Anything."

Barnaby says nothing.

The nurse comes in for routine measurements: heart rate, blood pressure, fluids, and the cocktail of drugs that Barnaby needs to not die then and there. She smiles at Kotetsu as she leaves, not a smile to cheer him up, but as if to say, _I understand._ Kotetsu wonders how many people like him she sees each and every day, clinging to their fading loved ones.

"…Promise…"

Kotetsu leans closer, prepared to hang onto Barnaby's every word. "Yes?"

He ignites with the soft blue glow of Hundred Power, clutching Kotetsu's hand and pulling back the plastic cup with the other. It takes a hundred times his normal strength to breathe unassisted, but Barnaby draws a deep breath anyway. "Kotetsu, promise me that you will live."

He stares at Barnaby. "Huh?"

"You've outlived me," Barnaby says simply. "At this rate, you'll outlive Kaede, too. Maybe even your grandchildren. I don't want you to be an idiot… and in a moment of weakness, decide you've lived long enough, when there's still so much you can do. For Sternbild… and for the world."

Kotetsu just gapes at him as he continues. "I don't know if there's a reason you gained the power to live so long, but you always believed your Hundred Power was meant to protect people. Maybe your longevity power is meant for something, too. Don't throw this power away, even if it's not the power you wanted."

"Bunny…"

The corners of Barnaby's mouth twitch upward in a smile. "I worried that you'd leave, as I grew older and it became harder to live with me. A few times, I convinced myself you should leave. No matter how many times you reassured me, I never quite believed you would stay. And yet… here you are. Just like you said."

"Of course…" Tears spill from Kotetsu's eyes as he grips Barnaby's hand all the harder. "Of course I'm here!"

"Now, keep both our promises," Barnaby broke into a full smile. "Live, Kotetsu. And since you're going to live, be a hero. To pass the time, if nothing else."

The potent combination of those two promises strikes Kotetsu, and he manages a dry laugh. "You're too damn clever, Bunny," Kotetsu lifts his partner's hand, kisses it, and brings it to his cheek. "Did I ever tell you that?"

"Yes," Barnaby twists his fingers and wipes away Kotetsu's still-falling tears. "Yes, you did."

"All right, then. I promise I'll do everything I can to stay alive. Happy?"

"I am… I'm very happy…"

The Hundred Power fades, and Barnaby's hand slips from Kotetsu's face. The hero catches it, places it to Barnaby's side, and fixes the plastic breathing cup over Barnaby's mouth and nose once again. The heartbeat machine continues chanting, _still-here… still-here… still-here…_

It crosses Kotetsu's mind that he should have called Hero TV, told them to take him off-call just for the night, because it looks more and more like Barnaby's last. But he doesn't want to let go of Barnaby's hand, even for a second, to opt out of any broadcasts. It happened to him once before, where the needs of others outweighed his own and he had to leave someone he loved to face death alone. It can't happen to him again. Kotetsu wills his call band not to ring. It won't. It just won't.

The band doesn't ring. And then, after a few hundred more heartbeats, they stop altogether. The machine next to him screeches as Barnaby flatlines, and a minute later, the nurse returns to turn the device off and record Barnaby's time of death. She sees Kotetsu still gripping Barnaby's hand, tears streaming down his face, and gently notifies him that the doctors can wait for about an hour, but they do have some end-of-life protocols to follow, for health and safety. She leaves him for the moment, but the time limit hangs in the air behind her.

Kotetsu checks Barnaby's pulse, just in case the machine lied. Nothing—not a spark of life in his wrist, or his palm, or his fingers, or back up to his forearm, elbow, shoulder… There's no life anywhere in Barnaby.

It doesn't feel like there's any life in Kotetsu, either. He's ninety-four years old, and for what? What good did it do him to live that long? What good will it do him to live any longer? To live in this world where no matter what, everyone he cares about is going to die, and no matter how many lives he saves, people continue to die. What good is being a hero if _everyone_ dies, if not sooner then later?

_But I promised. I promised to save them, and I promised to live._

Of course he's not going to die. Of course he's not going to quit. Those are the two promises he'll never break, no matter how much he wants to.

No matter how much it hurts.


	8. Chapter 8

"It's strange," Barnaby says. "I never believed in ghosts."

Tomoe smirks. "Not many do."

He loses track of time for a while. There's just so much to get used to about being dead, and so much of what makes it strange and wonderful are things that Barnaby will never in an eternity be able to describe in human language. And between that and the people he wants to see, the people who want to see him, it takes him a while to, as they would say, come back down to earth to look at the world he left behind.

Barnaby's not sure how many years it has been since he died and left Kotetsu in the hospital, but Tomoe's there to point to some 'signs' in Kotetsu's life. The way he stays home most every night. The way he stares at the ceiling for hours on end. The way his hero rank is falling. The way he maintains a fun-loving smile until the very instant others leave the room, and not a second longer. Tomoe mentions that these are the conditions under which she staged her intervention.

"Intervention? Ghosts can intervene?"

No, not majorly. Ghosts depend on a sort of butterfly effect, pushing a single, small detail in a certain direction with the hopes of sparking a larger chain reaction. They don't have the power to cure Kotetsu's depression, but they _do_ have the power to pull people toward him. Good people, kind people, loving people, who can cure his despair for them. People he might love in return.

"You don't mind?" Barnaby asks.

"Please, I'm the one who made your first catch into a princess carry," Tomoe dismisses his concern. "The real question is, are _you_ all right with Kotetsu falling in love again?"

Barnaby tries to weigh logic against emotion. It never balanced, not even back while he was alive. "Do you know how long Kotetsu has left to live?"

"No, sadly."

After following a week of Living Time, Barnaby comes to the conclusion that Kotetsu without love is worse than Kotetsu with someone else, so he and Tomoe begin hunting. They search through Kotetsu's current acquaintances, through people's lives who run in sync with his, like the bartenders at his favorite haunts, through people with lives on trajectory to collide with Kotetsu's soon.

"Who are we actually looking for?" Barnaby asks.

"Someone who would understand and treasure Kotetsu, the way we do. A little lost, a little lonely, a little stern, a little kind. And hot wouldn't hurt."

They settle on one person as their first shot: Laura Lindquist, breaking into the Hero TV scene and basically taking Agnes' job. The studio needs an executive producer to make such a long-running show fresh and exciting again, and with a strong bloodline of actors, directors, and producers in her family and credentials to match, she's a top pick for the job. That close proximity to the heroes, coupled with some history-digging—finding an old childhood crush on Wild Tiger (quickly ridiculed out of her, but it existed) and a long-buried sense that the entertainment industry is about giving happiness rather than taking profits—quickly makes her a candidate above the others to Barnaby and Tomoe.

Not to mention she wears glasses.

She gets the job just fine with minimal influence from Barnaby and Tomoe, just giving her smile and extra shine and her eye a prettier sparkle, and she joins Hero TV just as Wild Tiger: Eternal's seventy-five year diamond anniversary appears on the horizon, an event that has everyone absolutely besides themselves trying to ensure it's a magnificent occasion to resonate through human memory for ages. Everyone is excited. Everyone but the man of honor.

"The problem is getting Kotetsu to do something, take initiative," Tomoe says. "You two had fallen in love within a year of meeting, but it took you twenty years to even _kiss_. It's a waste of time, and frankly, it got boring watching you two dance around each other."

"Are you doing this for Kotetsu's happiness, or your own entertainment?" Barnaby asks, though he knows Tomoe isn't that selfish.

"Take a page from Laura's book. Kotetsu's happiness _is_ my entertainment." Though Barnaby is placated, the problem remains. How to keep Kotetsu from wasting time with his own obliviousness?

Barnaby thinks up an answer, and for the next episode of Hero TV, he curves Kotetsu's wrist just a little bit, and his nanosteel talons rip two ribbons of destruction and damage fines all the way down a skyscraper, absolutely shattering forty floors worth of plate glass and steel beams.

And Laura Lindquist is not pleased.

"This is not news to you, Tiger!" she lectures in her office. "You _know_ that damages to public structures is the biggest drain on Hero TV's budget! Your stunt yesterday put your damage totals dangerously close to leeching on the gala's budget! _Your_ gala!"

"I didn't ask for a gala," Kotetsu shrugs. "What's wrong with skipping it?"

"Are you kidding? We can't _not_ have that gala! Your lifetime achievements outclass all the other heroes, and your loyalty to Hero TV is unparalleled by _anyone_ in existence! This gala is a chance to recognize and reward that dedication!"

Barnaby can see Kotetsu's eyes glazing over, so he nudges Tomoe. "It's time. Follow my lead." Tomoe nods affirmative as Barnaby reaches out and grabs onto Laura's train of thought, dragging it ever so slightly in the direction that he needs it to go.

"Since your rebranding, you've filled a valuable niche and broadened Hero TV's viewing audience. The heroes are well-established enough that there's an element of nostalgia in a segment of the population, an emotion that resonates with you. You keep long-time viewers interested in the show, like a promise of the glory days."

Getting close…

"Of course, Hero TV has always had a strong element of sponsorship and promoting companies with the exploits of costumed superheroes, but the general trend is sliding toward open-identity heroes. Not everyone likes the change. You're a symbol of a golden age, mystery, excitement!"

Just a little further… Get to the point…

"Does your charm fall within the traditionally established boundaries of cool? No. But you don't understand what it is that people _do_ see when they look at you! They see a true hero!"

Almost there…!

"And I know I seem like the bad guy, trying to make you do things that you don't want to, but having a gala doesn't make you any less of a hero! Because I know, _a hero's job is to protect people_—"

It's like whistling for a dog. Kotetsu's boredom evaporates and he stares at Laura like he's seeing her for the first time. Barnaby cheers, startling even Tomoe, as he hastily explains: Kotetsu saw those words as a link between the two of them, a cue that Barnaby was someone worth falling in love with. And now, Laura just gave that cue to Kotetsu, loud and clear, and as the third person to ever say those words to him, he _had_ to recognize this pattern.

"—But that's not something that you have the… Hey," Laura trails off, suddenly noticing Kotetsu's intense stare. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Kotetsu says with a little smile. He looks down at his shoes, scratches his beard, and still smiling, whispers, "Glasses _again_?"

Barnaby and Tomoe gape at him, and then at each other. _Was that…_ directed _at us?_

"What are you mumbling about?" Laura frowns, suspicious.

"Nothing," Kotetsu repeats, before he looks up. "I'm sorry for being selfish. This gala means a lot to everyone. And to you, right?"

"It—It does," Laura admits, decidedly more flustered with Kotetsu's warm, honey-amber eyes turned on her at full power.

"I'm the old-school hero, like you said, so I can't promise I won't break anything else. But I'll try my best to help, okay?"

Laura can't even speak she's so startled: by Kotetsu's sudden change in attitude, by the kindness in his face, by the feeling that something otherworldly just took place in the room.

He points to the door. "Am I dismissed?"

"…Yes. Dismissed," Laura echoes, and Kotetsu leaves the room, whistling a little tune. She stands by for a second, still in a daze.

"Do you think we pushed too hard?" Tomoe wonders. "We can't meddle too much beyond this point. And what are we supposed to do if they don't work out?"

"Everything will be fine," Barnaby said. "We've got time to watch this play out."

Tomoe smiles. "Yes, we do."

* * *

_Dear Kotetsu,_

_Thank you for the thousands of things you've done for me throughout my life. You are the one who saved me from the darkness, and showed me friendship, love, and the future. I still cannot believe how unfair it is that, through your lifetime, you will get to meet and know so many wonderful people, but the price is to lose them all one by one. And I don't know exactly what direction your life is going to take, but please, continue to love regardless. Love everyone. Love with power beyond measure. Love with the heart of the true hero that you are, the truest hero in the world._

_I'll be with you, Kotetsu, no matter how long the years last. I will always be with you._

_Your Bunny,_

_Barnaby_


End file.
